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Dear reader,
To the future generation of filmmakers, it is now your responsibility to create. It is your responsibility to liberate cinema. The world is in dire need of your independent, truly liberated input. Do not let your material conditions, or lack thereof, hold you back. To the youthful generation of filmmakers, it is your job to fight the tight grasp corporations hold, over your beloved medium. Embrace the poor image! Make it raunchy or delicate, offensive or touching. Make it carry communist sentiments or fascist ones. I have one request: Create this vision, and create it soon.
To the audience, you are the most important film critic. It is your job to remain critical of not only the content you watch, but how you consume it and where the medium’s future is going.
Introduction
It is the year 2004, a time brimming with chatter about an imminent cinematic wave. The air is thick with discourse, pointing fervently towards an emergent movement on the silver screen. One such epithet, the "New French Extremity," was coined as a sly remark by the venerable ArtForum critic, James Quandt. In his essay, "Flesh & Blood: Sex and Violence in Recent French Cinema," he bestowed this moniker upon a provocative breed of films. The controversial essence of the New French Extremity catalyzed a maelstrom of debates on the realms of cinema and art. Yet, despite the palpable anticipation for a nascent avant-garde crusade in the realm of film, this grand promise never fully materialized. Therefore, the purpose of this essay is to delve into the reasons behind the abortive trajectory of this incipient movement, simultaneously reflecting upon the invaluable lessons that can be gleaned from this missed opportunity. To this end, I will conduct a meticulous analysis of the historical fabric of recent cinema, intricately intertwined with the neo-capitalist order pervading our existence. I contend that our society has been successfully indoctrinated to view content devoid of political significance, instead gravitating towards illusory notions of progress. We now find ourselves immersed in an era dominated by aesthetics, where form triumphs over substance.
Specters and Ghosts
In traversing the convoluted terrain of the New French Extremity's enigmatic demise and its far-reaching implications, we embark upon a journey into the realm of hauntology—a concept whose resounding reverberations resonate deeply within the tapestry of our contemporary cultural landscape. Hauntology, a term coined by Jacques Derrida, beckons us to confront the spectral presence of history's remnants, an apparition that perpetually exerts its ghostly influence upon the present moment. Just as ethereal phantoms linger in the recesses of forgotten recesses, the unfulfilled promises and unrealized potential of this nascent cinematic movement continue to haunt our collective consciousness.
The New French Extremity, with its audacious narratives and viscerally evocative imagery, held within its grasp the transformative potential to disrupt the established norms that governed the cinematic domain. It emerged as a spectral force, an entity that dared to transgress the boundaries of acceptability and convention. However, the subversive power it possessed soon found itself ensnared within the intricate web of capitalist commodification. The very system that initially ignited anticipation for an avant-garde cinematic renaissance swiftly co-opted and diluted the radical potential that once emanated from this movement. Upon subjecting recent cinema to a rigorous hauntological analysis, a disquieting revelation unfurls before our gaze: the neo-capitalist order, propelled by an insatiable pursuit of profit and an unrelenting drive to commodify culture, transmogrifies radical gestures into nothing more than marketable commodities. As consumers, we find ourselves indoctrinated into a collective consciousness that fervently embraces superficial aesthetics, prioritizing spectacle and surface-level veneer over the profound political resonances that once saturated artistic endeavors. Within this context, hauntology assumes the role of a spectral apparition, haunting our present reality, ceaselessly reminding us of the golden opportunity we squandered to dismantle prevailing power structures and fundamentally transform the landscape of cinema. It impels us to interrogate the allure of illusory progress and to reclaim the political dimensions of artistic expression. By immersing ourselves in the intricacies of hauntology, we confront the specters of unfulfilled potential, and in doing so, we envision a future where the ghosts of the past serve as guiding forces, propelling us toward a more profound and transformative cinematic landscape.
The Age of Aesthetics
Part I: Aesthetics and the Individual
Before delving into the mass deceptions of the contemporary cinematic medium, it is crucial to deconstruct misunderstandings, misconceptions, and deceptions within the self. To critique institutions, one must know how to look at them. In the following paragraphs, I will be displaying the importance of medium-oriented critique rather than content-oriented critique as well as distinguish between the two. I will also be speaking about the importance of carrying strong material analysis and why it is important to remain critical of the romanticization too often seen throughout film history. Finally, I will be asking you, dear reader, to kill your inner “cinephile” while performing material analysis of film history. It’s how you love film back.
1. Content and Medium To embark on a constructive critique of media, one must heed the distinction between content and its medium. Content, akin to a discrete unit of information, can be likened to a solitary word in a larger conversation. It is essential to grasp that the vocabulary employed in a conversation should not dictate one's interpretation of the broader arguments being conveyed. While an eloquent lexicon may enhance the aesthetic allure of the discourse, its significance ultimately resides in the context of the broader exchange of ideas taking place. All consumed content is intricately woven within a particular medium, thereby rendering any meaningful analysis of the content futile without first contemplating the underlying structure of the medium itself. Attempting to comprehend the full extent of a conversation by randomly selecting isolated words would prove fruitless; while each word possesses inherent value, its true essence cannot be fully apprehended without reference to the wider context of the exchange. An exploration of the medium in which content is generated enables a more comprehensive understanding of trends within that medium, encompassing movements that challenge and transform prevailing norms, thus propelling the medium's evolution forward. Within the dynamic realm of conversation, movements can be perceived as artfully crafted counterpoints to prevailing trends, adeptly disrupting and shifting entrenched ways of thinking.
2. Movements: Mythologies and Material History Many contemporary “cinephiles” will refer to movements in film purely stylistically. Said cinephiles will often attribute the birth of a movement to a period in foreign or domestic cinema where the formalism of a film radically changed. The French New Wave, for example, is typically referred to as a cinematic period born in the late-fifties when french filmmakers experimented with the use of fast-paced editing, shot on location, and investigated the fourth wall. When referring to film movements, most will not even attempt to specify the formal trends that the movement is associated with but rather will use the verbatim blanket statement: A rejection of traditional filmmaking conventions. All previous statements are true but fail to answer the seemingly basic question, that being “why does the movement matter?” If one refers to the fall of the Berlin wall as being “the demolition of a wall larger than the average wall,” the statement would be correct by technicality, but would put an disproportionately heavy emphasis on what is insignificant when put into the context of cold war conflict and how deeply this event shifted ideology in both the United States as well as Russian citizens to this day. Institutions will often teach the future generations mythologies regarding certain movements; these span from certain untruths to constructed but widely accepted lies in cinephile circles. The French New Wave, when taught in various university-level film history courses, is often said to be birthed by a young group of young left-wing filmmakers, living on the left bank of Paris, who saw a problem in the mundanity seen in post-war French films at the time. Therefore, these filmmakers decided to lead new discourses and theories in film through their famous Cahiers du Cinema as well as pick up the camera and shoot their own films on little to no budget. The truth about the material history that gave birth to the French New Wave much more political, and display a material necessity found in discourses throughout said left-bank filmmakers to justify a new film movement. Contrary to popular thought, the French New Wave holds its roots in reactionary politics, rather than the left-wing discourse sold by film history instructors. The movement was born out of a measure that came out of the Marshall plan after the Second World War: The Blum-Byrnes agreement. This agreement stated that movie theaters would have to show French films at least four weeks out of every thirteen. Though this agreement seems like it would aid French film production, giving France a quota for film production, it left the remaining nine weeks open to international markets. Since Hollywood was the main filmmaking industry at the time, the United States knew that a post-war France would fill the subsequent nine weeks with American films. Therefore, the original goal of French New Wave discourse was not left-leaning idealism but one rooted in a nationalistic goal to restore France’s national identity and voice. It was to restore France’s film culture and bring back glory to the country that had so often defined themselves as a filmmaking capital. There was a material necessity; one rooted in fervent nationalism, but a necessity nonetheless. Film movements are often viewed as a means to revitalize the medium and to address the systemic issues that plague it. Contrary to the popular notion that film movements are motivated by a deep-seated love for the medium, it can be argued that these movements are born out of an urgent need for change. This is exemplified by Cahiers du Cinema, which was not merely a love letter to cinema, but rather an intervention to address the shortcomings of the medium. Indeed, all film movements emerge as a response to a pressing material problem, rather than a simple desire for formal aesthetic innovation. In many ways, film movements are akin to historical revolutions, which arise out of the need for radical change in response to systemic issues. For instance, the French Revolution did not occur because the French people found the monarchy boring; rather, it was driven by the urgent need to address issues such as starvation, wealth inequality, and political oppression. Similarly, film movements serve as indexes that point to moments when the medium is in dire need of reform. These movements often force filmmakers to be "unconventional" due to the lack of funding and support, as the consumers and pioneers of the movement must take the medium into their own hands.
3. Death of the “Cinephile” The concept of a cinephile, in its essence, reflects the embodiment of a particular form of devotion within the filmic medium. However, in order to undertake a profound examination and critique of the prevailing state of the film medium, it becomes imperative to dismantle the entrenched position of the inner cinephile. This inner cinephile epitomizes an individual's deeply ingrained and romanticized attachment to cinema, often entailing a clouded judgment and hindrance to engage in objective analysis. By eliminating the influence of this cinephilic persona, one can approach the filmic medium with a renewed perspective, unburdened by preconceived notions and a romanticized idealization of cinema. The emergence of the inner cinephile can be traced back to a romanticized perception of cinema as an art form, intertwined with notions of purity, artistic genius, and transcendence. This idealization acts as a hindrance to critical engagement, fixating one's attention on the filmmaker as a venerated artist and imbuing the medium itself with an ethereal aura. Through a process of deconstruction, this romanticized perception can be dismantled, removing the barriers that impede objective analysis and facilitating a more nuanced comprehension of the filmic medium. The inner cinephile, by nature, tends to be emotionally invested in cinema, thereby posing challenges to maintain the necessary critical distance during the evaluation of films. This emotional attachment proves detrimental to the achievement of an objective analysis, as it inhibits a comprehensive understanding of the film's intended message, societal implications, and cultural contexts. By liberating oneself from personal emotions and expectations, a more critical standpoint can be assumed, enabling a deeper exploration of the film's underlying themes, ideologies, and social commentary. It is crucial to transcend the grasp of the inner cinephile in order to effectively assess and critique the current state of the filmic medium. By dismantling the romanticized perception of cinema, detaching oneself from emotional investments, and adopting a critical stance, individuals can engage in a comprehensive analysis that unveils the intricacies and implications inherent within the filmic medium. It is through this process that a transformative understanding of the filmic medium can be attained, allowing for a more incisive examination of its artistic, cultural, and social significance.
Part II: Aesthetics and the Production Complex
The vast majority of films exhibited in American cinemas and consumed by the public originate from one of two production models: the major production companies and the mini-major production companies. In the subsequent discussion, I shall explicate these two distinct approaches to film production. I will proceed to evaluate the respective perceptions of each model within the public sphere, as well as the methods by which they advertise themselves to their consumers.
1. Major Production and its Discontents The major production companies emanate from six colossal corporate entities, namely Comcast, Walt Disney, AT&T, Paramount Global, Sony, and Fox. Collectively, these
conglomerates exercise dominion not merely over the majority, but rather a staggering 90% of the media consumed by the American populace. Thus, six faceless entities wield immense control over news broadcasts, television programming, and the cinematic realm. Although the present inquiry pertains to the state of contemporary cinema, it is by no means confined to that medium alone. The production companies operating under the auspices of the aforementioned "big six" include Universal, Paramount Pictures, Warner Bros, Disney Studios (which possesses other major studios such as Marvel), and Columbia. These are multi-billion dollar corporations, each functioning within larger corporate frameworks. They present themselves as corporations that have transcended the need for artistic pretense, plunging headlong into the business of mass spectacle and mass deception, while simultaneously shaping the very fabric of the society they inhabit. This paradigm aligns with what Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer would later characterize as "the culture industry" in their seminal work, "Dialectic of Enlightenment," published in 1944. Though this mode of production proves efficient in generating content, it distances itself from the concept of the Benjaminian aura. The delicate equilibrium between aura and democratization has plagued the world of cinema in recent decades. As previously noted, the contemporary era of popular media necessitates democratization, yet in doing so, it relinquishes the aura and craftsmanship that once imbued it. With the demise of the aura, consumers of major productions lack location of the craftsman’s face when engaging with a film. However, they cannot define the film solely by the production company that financed it, as these companies are conspicuously disconnected from the artistic work. The major production company stands alienated from its audience, openly regarding the film as nothing more than a financial investment; a mere commodity; a stock. The film becomes reduced to an alien-like object of consumption for the masses, bereft of the direct authorship of an individual (for it lacks one) or the identity of a company (as they remain distant and detached from the consumer). The major production assumes the character of a taken-for-granted apparition, readily consumed and promptly forgotten. The content disseminated by major production companies actively subdues the masses, shaping their ideological dispositions in support of prevailing superstructures, both materially (through the audience's monetary investment) and psychologically. Yet, these entities market themselves as mere apolitical sources of entertainment. Although the audience consumes this faceless commodity, they are aware that when they indulge in the latest Marvel film, it has been crafted solely for profit. The audience comprehends the deleterious impact that major production companies exert on the cinematic realm as a whole. What if there existed a means to market mass-produced content driven solely by financial incentives while simultaneously duping the audience into believing that they are contributing to a collective effort to salvage the future of cinema? What occurs when the corporation transforms themselves into the movement, and when political struggles are recast as matters of aesthetics and "vibe"?
2. Mini-Major Production and its Greater Discontents
Mini-major production companies warrant our attention and provoke even greater discontentment, for they endeavor to mimic the strategies of major production companies, albeit on a reduced scale. These entities aspire to emulate the illusion of artistic and cultural significance while adhering to the same corporate dynamics as their more influential counterparts. By masquerading as beacons of independent filmmaking, mini-major production companies seek to position themselves as vanguards of artistic integrity and countercultural resistance within the realm of cinema. In their quest to compete with the hegemony of major production companies, they adopt similar marketing tactics and strive to cultivate an aura of authenticity and nonconformity. However, despite their apparent departure from the dominant corporate structure, mini-major production companies remain ensnared within the overarching capitalist apparatus, ultimately perpetuating the very system they claim to challenge. By co-opting the language of rebellion and adopting the aesthetics of independent cinema, they entice audiences with the illusion of alternative voices while remaining firmly entrenched within the confines of profit-driven production and consumption. Thus, the emergence of mini-major production companies engenders an even deeper disillusionment, as they embody a co-optation of resistance and a commodification of dissent. In the domain of the film industry, a noteworthy exemplification of the mini-major production paradigm emerges in the form of the esteemed entity known as A24. A24 has adroitly contrived a semblance of itself as a bestower of audacious and idiosyncratic cinema, capitalizing on the yearning for veritable narrative craftsmanship and artistic novelty. By assuming the guise of an emblem of independent filmmaking, A24 strategically situates its brand as a divergence from the mainstream, aligning with the yearnings of discerning cinephiles in search of respite from the stultifying uniformity of major studio productions. A24's promotional endeavors and marketing stratagems manifest a fastidious cultivation of their distinct brand identity. Through assiduously curated trailers, captivating visual renditions, and calculated premieres at prestigious festivals, they engender anticipation and intrigue surrounding their cinematic endeavors. A24's films often venture into uncharted thematic territories, transgress normative boundaries, and encompass singular narratives that challenge established conventions. This calculated modus operandi not only augments their artistic credibility but also magnifies the perception of their films as cultural artifacts endowed with weighty sociocultural import. Moreover, A24 embraces the omnipotence of audience engagement and harnesses the sway of digital platforms to engender an ardent cohort of enthusiasts. They deftly leverage social media and digital marketing to foster a sense of collective belonging among their audience, actively involving them in the promotion and contemplation of their films. This participatory approach contributes to a sense of ownership and affiliation, propagating the notion that A24 transcends the mere designation of a production company, metamorphosing into a cultural movement.
Nevertheless, it is of utmost importance to subject A24's positioning within the overarching film industry and its entanglement with capitalist structures to rigorous critical inquiry. While A24 may ostentatiously present itself as an alternative to the hegemonic order, it remains ensnared within the tenacious web of the capitalist apparatus, reliant on the attainment of financial prosperity and the generation of pecuniary rewards. The dialectical interplay between A24's countercultural allure and its commercial imperatives warrants scrupulous examination, as the allure of artistic authenticity is susceptible to co-optation and commodification for the sake of commercial gain. Hence, A24's marketing and branding strategies exemplify the intricate dynamics at play within the mini-major production model. While they captivate the imaginations of audiences yearning for distinct cinematic encounters and foster a reputation for audacious experimentation, it is incumbent upon us to discern the simultaneous enmeshment of A24 within the very system it endeavors to contest. The allure of heterodox voices and unorthodoxy, epitomized by the A24 brand, necessitates a perspicacious scrutiny of the extent to which genuine resistance to mainstream cinematic practices can genuinely be attained within the constrictions imposed by a capitalist industry.
3. A Price to Your Discontent In the realm of the film industry, the manipulative deployment of catharsis by production companies resonates as a hyperreal spectacle, a simulacrum carefully crafted to maintain the façade of social harmony and perpetuate the status quo. Catharsis, as a concept rooted in Aristotelian aesthetics, has been commodified and transformed into a simulacrum of emotional release, strategically employed by the major production companies and mini-major entities to fabricate a simulated sense of resolution and closure. Within this hyperreal landscape, narratives are meticulously constructed to simulate a transformative experience, a journey through the rollercoaster of emotions that ultimately leads to a climactic release. Yet, this cathartic release is not an authentic emotional purge; it is a manufactured simulation, a prepackaged illusion of emotional resolution designed to sedate and distract audiences from the underlying socio-political tensions and systemic issues that permeate society. The hyperreal catharsis offered by these production companies is a means of containment, a simulation that neutralizes genuine critical engagement and radical transformation. By presenting a sanitised and stylised version of reality, they create a hyperreal realm of cinematic spectacle that mimics the contours of the real, while concealing the structural power imbalances and oppressive forces that uphold the status quo. The simulated release provided by these films functions as a pacifier, an anaesthetic that numbs any potential revolutionary impulses and stifles the desire for genuine social change. Moreover, the hyperreality of catharsis in mainstream cinema emerges through the repetition of narrative formulas, character archetypes, and plot resolutions. This perpetual
recycling of familiar tropes and predictable outcomes constructs a hyperreal realm of simulated closure and satisfaction. It produces an illusion of resolution that perpetuates the dominant social order, sustaining the illusion that everything can be neatly resolved within the confines of the hyperreal narrative. In the realm of the mini-major production companies, the hyperreal spectacle of catharsis intertwines with the simulation of rebellion and subversion. Through the deployment of countercultural aesthetics and imagery, these entities construct a hyperreal façade of resistance, while remaining firmly enmeshed within the capitalist machinery. The simulated cathartic moments in their films serve to neutralize any potentially disruptive impulses, enmeshing the audience within the hyperreal realm of rebellion that ultimately reasserts the hegemonic order. Thus, the hyperreal deployment of catharsis by production companies emerges as a simulacrum, a seductive illusion that sustains the simulacrum of social harmony and ideological stasis. It masquerades as an emotional release, yet conceals the underlying mechanisms of control and containment. The hyperreal catharsis perpetuates the simulacrum of resolution, engendering a state of perpetual satisfaction and conformity that veils the urgent need for genuine transformation and systemic change.
Is There No Alternative?
In confronting the prevailing pessimism surrounding the state of cinema, it is imperative to resist the allure of Hollywood realism. The demise of the New French Extremity resonates with the collapse of the Soviet Union, resembling an event that signifies the supposed end of history. It appears that the monumental struggle between capitalist modes of production and a communist cinema has concluded, with the triumph of capitalist modes extending not only to the realm of cinema but also permeating the depths of the human psyche. Echoing the sentiments expressed by Margret Thatcher during her address to the Conservative Women's Conference in 1980, we encounter an assertion that our proposed path may lack popular appeal, yet it remains inherently valid. However, it is crucial to acknowledge that people have acquiesced to the notion that no genuine alternative exists. Within the confines of our seemingly bleak outlook, I submit that an alternative indeed exists, but it necessitates swift action before it slips beyond our grasp. In this era of so-called independent cinema, even within the realm of mini-major productions, there is an undeniable allure associated with the term "independent." The popularity these mini-majors garner is largely due to their self-proclaimed independence, indicating a potential widespread interest among audiences for genuine independent cinema. Such cinema ought not to be treated merely as an investment or a commodity traded on the market by producers. In order to realize this vision, we must undertake two essential tasks: Firstly, we must generate a copious amount of content that saturates the discourses within the realm of film. It is incumbent upon us, as filmmakers, to ensure that the consumer populace discerns a palpable transformation in cinema. Secondly, we must shed any reservations stemming from a lack of formal production education. We must defy the conventions of the pristine image and instead embrace the imperfect one, elevating it as a symbol of the new cinema. Furthermore, it is imperative to sever all aesthetic and narrative ties with the investment system that sustains the capitalist modes of production. The New French Extremity serves as a powerful source of inspiration in this regard, as it boldly disregarded the interests of investors, manifesting this defiance on the cinematic screen. The New French Extremity represented a defiant gesture, a resounding rejection of the capitalist modes of production through the creation of an uninvestable entity. Our endeavor should not be to simulate the appeal emanating from these capitalist modes of production, for in doing so, we risk blurring our own distinctiveness. We find ourselves competing with an entity that has perfected and appropriated all the aesthetics and narratives with which we are familiar, necessitating the creation of our own unique framework. Maya Deren's words echo with a resounding call to action: "Use your freedom to experiment with visual ideas." While we may perceive our limited access to the prestigious modes of production employed by the capitalist system as a constraint, it is, in fact, a constraint only in one aspect. We must acknowledge that attempting to imitate the capitalist production model will never enable us to create films of equal quality. However, within this absence of capitalist investment lies a newfound realm of liberation—the freedom of experimentation.
To all viewers, future filmmakers, and current film consumers, I implore you to maintain a critical and vigilant stance. Be ever watchful, for it is through our discerning eyes that the seeds of transformation are sown. Embrace this opportunity to challenge existing norms, to defy the boundaries imposed upon us. Let us not be disheartened by our unconventional methods, but rather let us embrace them as a testament to our unwavering dedication to artistic integrity. In solidarity, let us forge ahead, united in our pursuit of a cinema that transcends the confines of capital. Together, we shall dismantle the shackles that bind us, nurturing a cinematic landscape rooted in innovation, imagination, and uncompromising vision. May our collective efforts pave the way for a future where independence reigns supreme, unburdened by the limitations of the capitalist machinery. Stand strong, for the dawn of a new era in filmmaking is within our grasp.
Sources
Benjamin, Walter. "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction." Illuminations, edited by Hannah Arendt, translated by Harry Zohn, Schocken Books, 1969
Horkheimer, Max, and Theodor W. Adorno. "The Dialectic of Enlightenment." Translated by Edmund Jephcott, Stanford University Press, 2002.
Zhang, Wendy. China's Encounter with Global Hollywood: Cultural Policy and the Film Industry, 1994-2013. University of Texas Press, 2016.
Debord, Guy. The Society of the Spectacle. Translated by Donald Nicholson-Smith, Zone Books, 1994.
Baudrillard, Jean. Simulacra and Simulation. Translated by Sheila Faria Glaser, University of Michigan Press, 1994.
Fisher, Mark. Ghosts of My Life: Writings on Depression, Hauntology, and Lost Futures. Zero Books, 2014.
Fisher, Mark. Capitalist Realism: Is There No Alternative? Zero Books, 2009.
Gramsci, Antonio. Prison Notebooks. Edited and translated by Joseph A. Buttigieg, Columbia University Press, 1992.
Steyerl, Hito. "In Defense of the Poor Image." E-flux Journal, vol. 10, no. 11, Nov. 2009.
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